


Done With the Games

by mariachillin



Category: Avengers (Comic), Marvel (Comics), Marvel (Movies), The Avengers (2012), Thor (2011)
Genre: F/M, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-21
Updated: 2012-03-21
Packaged: 2017-11-02 07:54:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,720
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/366704
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mariachillin/pseuds/mariachillin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clint is tired of Maria riding around on that high horse of hers. He figures it's about time someone knocked her off of it. Can he truly get under her skin, though?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Done With the Games

Clint Barton strode down the S.H.I.E.L.D. corridor like it was nobody’s business. Well, technically, it  _was_  nobody’s business. Maria Hill had “requested” to see him her office. In his mind, he figured she just wanted to see his handsome face. The woman may have had an ice block for a heart, but she had eyes. And he knew he looked good enough to make her melt. He’d proven it on one occasion.  _But they didn’t speak of that. Ever._  He smirked as he passed through a bullpen full of bristling agents. If there was one way to tell you were getting closer to Commander Hill’s office, it was the amount of activity going and just the aura of the atmosphere. The closer you got, the harder you’d see people working. For every sector he passed through, agents were looking more and more stressed. He shook his head. Hill really knew how to shake ‘em. But that ice-queen routine rarely worked on him. And that drove her crazy. He passed a blonde who he caught staring and threw her a wink just because. With a timid grin, she hurried away and Clint watched her hips sway all the way back to her desk.  _Wait for it… Wait for it…_  She glanced back coyly and Clint sent her a smirk and an arrogant wave. She blushed and ducked into her cubicle. Too easy.

Finally arriving at a darker hallway, walls made out of complete steel, Clint figured he was headed in the right direction. Sure enough, he found a door marked  **Deputy Director; Commander Maria Hill _._**  He knocked twice. He hoped this wouldn’t take long. Sure, he loved to get under her skin just for kicks, but the physical attraction shared between them was a two way street. It frustrated him the most because she didn’t even try. Or rather, she put him off often enough to make him think so. Too many nights was he taken back to that fortunate night they had shared in the shooting  range.  Clint had went down to spend some time with his trusty bow and arrow that night when he found Maria angrily letting off rounds into some poor, unsuspecting target sheet. She didn’t seem to care that every bullet hitting the target was causing a hole in the drawn man’s chest which only expanded with every shot. He announced himself and after rounding on him with her glock momentarily, she lowered her weapon and proceeded to ask him what the hell he was doing there. She must not have gotten the memo that the S.H.I.E.L.D. training facilities were open to  _all_  employees. Somehow about an hour later, Clint found himself giving her archery lessons. And she… sucked. He didn’t really mind so much, because having her as a pupil wasn’t bad at all. She was a quick learner and although she got unbelievably close with every shot she took, her frustration was radiating through that skin-tight suit of hers. And damn, that suit. Being that close to her, his hands on her from behind in such an intimate position, steadying her wrist for the perfect form… just the thought was enough to get his pants a little tight.

But what happened soon after had his dick ready to bust through his zipper. Maria continued to shoot and her failure to hit the target had her angry after a while. The woman could use some S.H.I.E.L.D. appointed anger-management classes if you asked him. After spazzing on him in a quick 30-second rant, Clint was shocked and completely turned on. Turned on because, fuck she was hot when she got worked up like that. Shocked, because then she kissed him. Okay, so he was shocked  _and_  turned on because she kissed him, but she was sexy when she was mad, too. Clint was no fool, so he responded immediately. Before he knew it she had his back pressed into the weapons on the wall and from there it was flurry of kisses and grunts and groans and  _just_  as Maria’s hands had snaked into his jeans, another agent had come into the range. And Clint was  _pissed_. More so because Maria actually looked relieved by the intrusion. They went unseen and he doubted the young agent would have said anything anyway if he valued his life any. Clint certainly wanted to rip his throat out for taking something away that was  _so close_  and would now be completely unobtainable.

Maria’s door opened suddenly and at the sight of him, she raised a questioning eyebrow. Clint thanked the Heavens that he opted for looser pants today. She was wearing that suit again. That damned cat suit. He smiled.   
  
“You  _requested_  to see me?”

She shot him a glare and turned on her heel. Following her in, he shut the door and caught a spilt second glance of her butt before she walked around her large desk. He sat.   
  
“To what do I owe the pleasure?”  
  
Maria still hadn’t spoken a word. It’d been three months since the archery lesson and while she didn’t necessarily  _avoid_  him, she made it a point never to find herself alone in his presence. He liked to think she didn’t trust herself around him, but that could have just been his ego talking. Finally she spoke.

"There's been a number of complaints concerning you and a number of female agents," she began as she dropped a thick folder on her desk, the loud -smack- resounding through the office. "Care to explain yourself?"

Clint noticed she was wearing a small, satisfied smirk. He probably should be worried, but he just couldn't find it in him.

"Complaints, huh? Care to elaborate?" He replied, adopting her snarky  tone.

Maria sat down with a glare in his direction. "No. I don't. Nor do I have to."

"Well, why do  _I_  have to?"

"Because I am your superior, Barton!"

Clint had to hide his smirk. Nothing upset Maria Hill like questioning her authority. To oppose her would be suicide.

"That's correct and everything... But how can I explain myself when you haven't even told me exactly what it is I did wrong?"

Maria took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He could tell he was riling her up. Placing folded hands in front of her, she paused--probably to calm herself--and then continued, "Apparently, you’ve been busying yourself by harassing these women. There's a complaint of you slapping an agent's ass in the sector 7 lunch lounge. There has been a complaint about you making out with an agent in the Sector 3 corridor. There was even a complaint about you doing  _God_  knows what in the lobby's women’s' restroom. Now,  _explain yourself_."

Clint leaned forward in his chair, fully smiling and utterly amused. Maria's demeanor had gotten angrier and angrier with each read offense.

"Hill--"

" _Commander Hill_ ," she interjected. He ignored it.

"Hill. I would love to explain to you all of my dirty, sexual exploits with these  _willing_  participants--God knows you look like you could use it, even if it'd only be vicarious--but all of these complaints sound like they come from outside sources. Have any of the  _physically offended_  made any arguments against me?"

She visibly tensed. Clint didn't know if it was because he was still questioning her or because he was right; none of the women were complaining. He figured he'd press his luck.

"I'm going to take your lack of response as a no." He leaned back in his seat, crossed his legs, and locked his fingers behind his head. His arrogant smirk was back in place.

"Do you think that because the skeezes themselves didn't make the complaint that disciplinary actions will not be taken?!" Maria exploded.

Clint whistled.

"You sound pretty upset. 'Skeezes'? What'd they ever do to you?" The laughter that followed was involuntarily and he made no effort to hold it in.

Maria stood and strode around her desk to stand in front of him. Her eyes were narrowed and she spoke in a dangerously low tone.

"You're lucky I can't suspend you, Barton. Director Fury has an assignment for you on hold." She bent down, leaning into his personal space. "Otherwise, your ass would be off this base for a month, no pay."

Clint had an excellent view of her cleavage. Her words barely registered as she'd already let him know whatever disciplinary actions she  _wanted_  to take, the boss man wouldn't let her. His gray eyes met her bright green ones.

"So why am here again, Hill?"

She looked about ready to choke him.

"Get out, Barton. Just keep your exploits out of the workplace."

Promptly, he stood. Maria was unprepared and almost stumbled in her haste to get back. Her desk left her with nowhere to go. Clint smiled and advanced on her.

"Have you forgotten about our little...  _exploit_  down in the training room?" He whispered, inches from her face. "Or do you keep that memory locked up for a little take-home disciplinary action?"

She gasped inaudibly, but said nothing. Her nose turned upwards in disgust.

"I thought so. I'll see you around,  _Commander_."

Clint had gotten to the door when he she finally responded.

"Trust me, Barton. I've had pecks on the cheek that have proven better masturbation material. So don't flatter yourself."

He turned to find her back to him, straightening the files on her desk. That was a low blow. You don't lead a man to assume he had you hot and bothered and jealous only to counter said assumption with an insult to his pride--worst--his manhood. He was suddenly behind her, a firm hand gripping her waist. She gasped, audibly this time, and shot up.

"Barton--"

"No, listen," he said fiercely against her ear. “Don't you dare tell me that's it’s not me you think about every night before you go to sleep. Don't you dare tell me that those moans and other little sexy noises you were making that day weren't because of  _me_. You can try and deny it all you want, Hill, but I know that my name is the name you whisper into the night when you're soaking wet and those fingers slip into those pretty folds and you finger yourself into oblivion. So don't you tell me not to flatter myself. You do it for me."

His body was fully pressed against her now, one hand still placed on her waist, the other making its way up her side as if to cup her breast.

"Barton...Ta--," she sighed as he squeezed him hand just under her breast. She seemed be having trouble talking. "Take your hands off of me."

He was already hard from his own foolish rant about her masturbating. He was visualizing it as the words left his lips. Maria's lack of resistance gave the drive to continue.

"I don't think that's what you want," he pressed. "I think you want me keep going. I'm starting to think I'm on to something."

Her neck was exposed to him as she bent her head low and Clint used it to his advantage. His tongue darted out to taste the soft flesh there. That earned him a soft sigh that had his heart beating faster.

"Am I, Maria?" He asked, trying her name out. "Am I on the right track?"

She bit her lip as if to keep her answer to herself. So stubborn.

Clint let his hand travel back down her side.

"Tell me, Maria. Tell me I'm right."

*****

Maria let out a deep breath. He was right.  _Oh_ , he was right. On all accounts. She thought about him every night before she went to sleep. Some nights she went sleepless because of it. There were no complaints of his exploits. She'd seen them herself through various feeds of security footage. Her workload wasn't as thick as it usually was, and since that damn archery lesson, he seemed to be the only thing on her mind. She hated it. It wasn't emotional. It was physical. Her job didn't permit her to get out as often as she'd like, meaning she rarely had time for hookups or any kind of sexual contact for that matter. Clint's hands were doing things to her that hadn't been done in years.

"I've never been one for lies, Barton."

Clint bit down on her neck gently and it was killing her not to let out a moan. Why did this man know just what to do to her?

"I know," he mumbled in her ear. "That's why I know you'll tell me the truth and stop," his hand slipped down her ass and he gave it squeeze. "Deflecting." The hand traveled down further, in between her legs. "And tell me what I want to hear and what you know you want to admit."

When his fingers found her clit through her suit, she cried out. Her body instinctively bent forward over her desk, welcoming his actions. He didn't stop.

"Clint--"

It was the first time she'd used his first name in his presence. However, it was a name her bedroom walls knew very well.

"Is this what you want, Maria?" He asked, leaning over to whisper in her ear. "To be fucked on the very desk that keeps you from getting fucked in the first place?" He  pressed her clit harder and Maria was about to lose her mind. The way he was talking to her. The way he was touching her... She bowed her head.

"Uhnnfff--," was all she could manage.

Clint took the back of her right knee and placed her leg up on her desk.

"So sexy... I never thought I’d see you like this."

Maria leaned forward to give him better access.

"Mmm."

And just like that, his hands were gone. Before she could voice her disapproval, he flipped her around and spread her legs so that he could get in between them. He lifted her chin.

"Is this what you want, Hill? 'Cause I'm this close to givin' it to you."

She gave him a serious look.

"Would you still be conscious if I didn't?"

*******

That was all Clint needed to hear. His mouth attacked hers immediately, tongue delving into her mouth, swirling, mixing with the moan she finally let break free. Pulling down her suit zipper, Maria put in her effort by pulling her arms out and exposing her entire upper body to him. He leaned back.

"Excuse me while I take a minute to admire the view," he smirked. Maria wasn't amused. Roughly, she grabbed his head and gripped the hair at the base of his neck. She brought his head back level with hers.

"Or you can just fuck me."

He growled. "Lusty Maria I like," he said, wrapping her legs around his waist. He kissed down her neck, sucking and licking every spot there was. "She should definitely come out more."

Done talking, Clint unclasped her bra. Her glorious breasts bounced free from their restraint and he wasted no time in tasting them. He let his tongue swirl around a pert nipple while kneading the other. The sounds Maria was making were damn near enough to send him over the edge, but he couldn't have that, now could he? Not without throwing her over first.

Clint kissed his way further down her abdomen, letting his fingers find her clit again. Her hips bucked against him.

"Clint!"

Motivation was never received better. He wanted to hear say that again; wanted to make her cry it over and over and over. As she placed both her legs on his shoulders, she toed off her boots and socks squeezing him in between. Clint let his tongue delve into her bellybutton. Damn, she was coming at him from every angle; her legs were contracting around him, her hands were grabbing everywhere from his hair to his shirt, and her moans could be heard in China. He loved every minute of it.

For a brief moment he pulled his hand away from her and Maria groaned her disagreement.

"Just a minute, babe. I've gotta get you out of this suit."

With his arm wrapped around her and his hand splayed on her back, he lifted Maria up and she helped him pull the suit off. Commander Maria Hill, Deputy Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. sat hot and sexier than anything he'd ever seen on her desk with nothing but a pair panties on. This was a night Clint would  _never_  forget. He snatched his shirt off and got rid of his own shoes and socks. Maria looked at him through hooded eyes. He didn't need a S.H.I.E.L.D. sanctioned body language course to tell him that she wanted him and she wanted him  _now_. She grabbed him by the belt.

"I'm done fantasizing, Barton. I'm done with the games."

Clint grinned. "Say no more."

Maria's mouth was hot and welcoming and he had no objections to taking what she was offering. Her fingers made quick work of his belt buckle and the pants dropped to the floor. He kicked him to the side. Evidently, he still wasn't moving fast enough; Maria's small hand grasped his larger one and she led it down her body. Their eyes locked as she bit down on her bottom lip. Her eyes captivated him, entrapping him. His hand found the waistband of her underwear, but the guidance was no longer necessary. Pulling them to the side, Clint's fingers met pure wet warmth. He let his head drop onto her shoulder. If he didn't slow down, he'd be no good to her at all.

But it was obvious that slowing down wasn't an option. Maria seemed to be at the point homicide if he didn't give her what she wanted.

"Oh! Yes!  _Please_ , Clint. Please..."

He groaned. "Mm. You got it."

He slid the first finger inside of her. She was soaked.

"Fuck, Maria. So wet. Is this how you get for me? Tell me what's got you so wet."

Her fingers dug into his shoulders.

"Yessss," she hissed. "It's you. Always you."

Her walls were so tight around his fingers and getting tighter the harder he went. She was close, he could tell. Her breath was short and fast and his name and a slew of  _Oh my Gods_  were falling on every other breath.

After it was secure, he grabbed Maria by the hips and dragged her to the edge of the desk, her hands flailing and knocking her nameplate and a few folders to the floor.

“Tell me you want this, Hill. Tell me you need it.” He rubbed the tip of his penis along her entrance.

Her head fell back with a deep moan as she clasped her hands behind his neck.

“I want it, Clint. I want it, I want it, I want it.  _Please_.”

With no further preamble, he plunged into her. They both cried out in pleasure. He pulled out and rammed back in. So. Damn. Tight. So  _wet_. For  _him_. Clint pulled out again. Maria was amazing. As he started to thrust in and out of her, she met him every single time. She scratched the base of his neck with her nails, making him go harder,  _deeper_.

“Fuck… Maria. Baby, come for me.” He thrust as hard as his body allowed. “Come on, babe. I can feel it. I know you’re right there. Let me feel you come.”

Maria bit her lip as her groans grew louder and her movements against him grew more frantic. Feeling her muscles clench around him, he was starting to feel a build-up of his own. He worked harder.

His neck grew sweaty and Maria opted to lace her hands on either side of them on the desk. It gave Clint better access and abled him to get deeper, hitting just where he needed to hit.

“ _CLINT! OH, MY GOD, CLINT,_ YES _, RIGHT THERE! RIGHT THERE! OH, I’M SO—I’M—_! _“_  She screamed and it was the sexiest thing he’d ever heard. Feeling her tighten around him, they rode their orgasms together. She brought her hands back around his neck and clung to him. With her face buried in his neck, they sat there until breathing was easy again. It was a good thing her office had its own corridor. But he was sure passing agents still may have heard her cries. Who knew she was a screamer?

“Damn…”

Maria let out a tired laugh. “Yeah…”

Clint slowly slid out of her and fell back into the chair. She was beautiful. She was leaned back on her elbows with her legs still wide open and closed eyes; a look of pure ecstasy on her features.

After a while, she got up. As if it was nothing, she picked up her bra and panties and began putting them on. Clint was still in awe at her being naked in front of him. Maria Hill… Naked. In front of him. After they’d had sex in her office,  _on her desk_. Clint was astonished. And it was great sex. Some of the best sex he’d ever had, and that was saying something.

“You should probably get dressed,” her voice broke through his thoughts.

“Oh. Yeah. Right…”

After he was fully dressed, he stood and looked her over. She was back in her S.H.I.E.L.D. suit, raking a hand through her hair and straightening papers.

“So. I guess, I uh…  I guess I’ll… see you around?”

Not answering right away, she continued to tidy around her desk before looking up.

“It’d probably be best,” she said curtly.

He raised an eyebrow. So  _that’s_  how she wanted to play this. He was game. If she could handle just going about business as usual, then he’d go along with it. Wasn’t hurting his feelings any. Or so what he told himself. He made his way to the door, pausing as his hand touched the doorknob.

“And here I thought we were done with the games…”

With that he walked out, a new pep in his step and a new challenge accepted; do that  _again_. As many times as possible.


End file.
